


Sun, Moon, and Stars

by Ealdremen



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3923251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ealdremen/pseuds/Ealdremen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When even Enko's "day off" is filled with work and various appointments instead of being able to spend time with her wife Rinkara, a well-timed letter comes with a solution to their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun, Moon, and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for a friend! This is just a small thing depicting her and her girlfriend's miqo'te characters in FFXIV, Enko Namaki and Rinkara Amiara respectively.
> 
> Happy birthday, Enko! May your year be as idly fluffy and silly as this little piece.

Morning.

Back home, the rising sun meant the end of the night's work. When the stars peeled away in the sunlight and the moons grew less bright, that was a sign it was time to retire to one's bed. In Eorzea, though, too many of the people were awake during the day and asleep at night, and Enko's body still fought her on trying to adapt to this schedule even quite a few moon-turns after her first days in Limsa Lominsa.

She forced her eyes open, squinting in the sunlight. Part of her almost wanted to pretend she hadn't noticed it was morning and go back to sleep. It would be easy to just succumb to her body's plea to go back to being nocturnal. Enko shook her head and fumbled for her glasses on the bedside table. She blinked wearily and sat up, yawning.

Beside her, Rinkara groaned into a pillow and pushed it over her head. It seemed Enko wasn't the only one pretending the start of the day wasn't here yet. Fighting back a small laugh, Enko leaned over and shook her wife's shoulder.

“Rin.” And again, a little louder: _“Rin.”_

Rinkara mumbled something in return that was lost to the muffled recesses of the pillow. Somehow, Enko was fairly certain it was a plea to have just another five minutes to sleep... which likely would turn into five  _hours_ if they didn't get up now. Returning to sleep was tempting, but –

“Rin, we need to go into the city today.” Enko tilted her head, her hair cascading around her face as she leaned down. “If I recall correctly,  _you_ even said yesterday not to let you sleep the morning away...”

Both of them had sworn that pact, in any case. These days, they so rarely were home together that even if they didn't have business in Ul'dah, they couldn't have risked spending one of their less busy days just in bed all day. Enko pricked her ears when an amusingly melodramatic groan rose up from the pillow.

“Wasn't thinkin' straight then,” came Rinkara's reply, her words slurred with sleep.

“I'm not sure Severian will accept that excuse.” This time, she didn't bother keeping the giggle out of her voice as Rinkara visibly tensed at the reminder of the business she was trying to shirk. “Come on, you silly popoto – get up.”

The hands on the pillow tightened as Enko took hold of it, finding her attempts to tug it away countered at every turn by Rinkara's sluggish but undeniably  _heavy_ pulls. Try as she might, Enko couldn't wrench the pillow free from Rinkara's grasp – it was too much like trying to pry something out of a rock. When she pulled back the covers of the bed, she saw Rinkara's tail thrashing about. In mock concern, Enko furrowed her brow and looked back to Rinkara's pillow-covered head.

“Now you're just being dramatic,” Enko teased.

“'M a  _bard._ That's what I  _do.”_

Her tail fell flat nonetheless, and she rolled out from under the pillow. Her dark red hair was in disarray, sticking out in every direction. She placed her hands behind her head and stared up at Enko with a look that would have  _almost_ been pleading had it not been for the cheeky grin taking form. Enko met her gaze, trying hard not to smile back and at least pretend she was serious. Rinkara raised a brow, a sure sign that she was scrutinizing her, waiting for an opening...

“What happened to the gentle lady of the moon who'd have let me sleep–”

“Oh, no,” Enko said firmly, smiling despite herself. “You're  _not_ sweet-talking your way out of this one.”

Rinkara let out a huge sigh. “Really?”

Enko nodded, which prompted another sigh from Rinkara that seemed to enter and exit through her shoulders more than her mouth. Almost feeling bad, Enko leaned over and pressed a small, quick kiss to Rinkara's forehead. When she pulled back, a smile had taken the place of the disappointed look on Rinkara's face.

“Come on, my love. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll return.” Enko held out her hand and pulled Rinkara up to a sitting position.

Rinkara raised a brow, and the slightly flustered smile was replaced by a smirk. “Maybe the Enko who lets me sleep in will return, too.”

“We'll see.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ul'dah was as busy as ever. Just pushing their way through the crowds to meet with their retainers had been a struggle, and Enko clung to Rinkara's arm to keep from losing the smaller woman amid the crowd. So many lalafells were milling about that Enko feared accidentally stumbling into them, or crashing into a roegadyn because she was too busy watching her feet. On top of that, the warm day was making her sleepier than anything – a far cry from how she had originally thought walking around Ul'dah would wake her up. Rinkara seemed to be faring better, apparently content to lead her around as they navigated breaks in the crowds and navigated away from the most active market stands.

“You'd think it was Heavensturn again or something,” Rinkara half-yelled over the roar of the crowd, elbowing past a pair of hyur men scrutinizing an arms dealer's wares.

“Excuse us,” Enko said to them, unsure if they even heard. “I think there's too few sheep for it to still be Heavensturn.”

“Really? Because I've got half a mind to  _ram_ through here.” Rinkara glanced back at Enko with a satisfied grin.

Bards and their puns. If she had a retort, it was lost when she caught sight of the moogle just up the steps nearby. Her eyes widened, and she tugged on Rinkara's arm to get her attention. Quizzically, Rinkara looked to her again, and then followed her gaze. Her brow furrowed, and she stopped walking. The passing crowds split around them like a river encountering a stubborn boulder, a fair share of people glancing their way in mild irritation.

“Are you expecting mail?” Rinkara finally asked. The inflection made Enko think Rinkara felt she was missing something obvious.

“From my parents.”

As she said it, Rinkara nodded and looked back to the moogle, her ears pricked as she scanned the crowd-filled distance between them and the small creature.

“Oh, right – it's been a while since you last got a letter from them, right?” Enko nodded. “Alright, then – excuse us! Coming through!”

Enko had to bite back a laugh as Rinkara started shoving them through the crowd again. Just as she was about to compare Rinkara's shouting to something Aoife might do, someone shoved into them from behind. Her step faltered, one of her feet catching on Rinkara's own. Rinkara wobbled, bracing herself against a nearby elezen man that yelped in confusion at the sudden weight. Almost as soon as they were stable again, Rinkara went back to leading Enko through the crowd, both of them heaving a sigh of relief together once they made it up the steps intact.

“There. That wasn't so bad, was it?” Rinkara glanced back in time to see Enko adjusting her glasses and brushing dust – or sand, more likely – off her robe.

“...Perhaps compared to a chimera,” said Enko, and Rinkara laughed. Enko disengaged herself from Rinkara's arm and approached the moogle. “Excuse me–”

“Kupo-po?” The moogle stared at her, or at least  _seemed_ to be, as far as she could tell from is squinted eyes. “Kupo! Enkupo Namakupo?”

Enko smiled. “Yes, it's been some time, hasn't it? Are there any letters waiting for me?”

“Kupo! Just arrived today!” The moogle rummaged around in its comically-oversized bag. The rustling of letters and gods knew what else made Enko prick her ears with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity, the moogle's stubby arm held out a neatly-sealed envelope. “Here you are, kupo!”

Enko took the letter with both hands, bowing her head graciously. “Thank you very much.”

The moogle nodded, and as she turned away, she offered it a small wave of farewell. The hard soles of her shoes clicked as she returned to Rinkara, whose interest in the letter was plain to see in her eyes and how she practically leaned over to catch any of its distinguishing characteristics.

“What's it say?” Rinkara asked.

“I haven't read it yet,” said Enko, tilting her head at Rinkara's responding shrug. “I wouldn't want to keep you from your delivery – it might be a long letter if they took this long to respond.”

Rinkara shrugged again, this time even more apathetically. “How long can reading a letter take?”

She did have a point, and with the crowds around Ul'dah, surely Severian wasn't expecting them to be especially prompt. And they still had a fair bit of time before they met up with Algoma and Yamsquash for lunch... Even if they hadn't seen their friends for a while, they'd understand that Enko was held up by a delayed letter from her parents. Enko nodded and slid her nail underneath the wax sealing the envelope shut. She tugged the letter free and unfolded it, her eyes quickly scanning the parchment – unsure even herself if it was her own eagerness or their prior engagements urging her onward.

“Well?” Rinkara asked expectantly when Enko lifted her head.

“They're well,” she responded. “Ah... Rin...”

Enko folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. She tucked it into her pocket and looked back up to Rinkara, unable to keep the smile off her face.

“We haven't had much time to ourselves lately, have we?”

“With Severian breathing down my neck all the time and everything you're doing in Limsa Lominsa, no, not really,” said Rinkara. “Linkshell pearls just aren't the same as actually spending time together.”

“How would you care for a vacation? Just the two of us?” Enko suppressed a small laugh at Rinkara's widened gaze of instant interest.

“Where's this coming from suddenly?” Rinkara asked. “Feeling bad about forcing me awake this morning?”

Enko shook her head. “My tribe – well, my parents, specifically. They'd love to meet you.”

Rinkara crossed her arms and tapped her foot. She let her gaze wander, as though she were thinking it over very carefully. Her tail swayed behind her at almost-regular intervals, and finally, Rinkara looked back to Enko.

“Does that mean I could sleep in if we're on vacation?”

Enko lightly chuckled, her hand going to her mouth to unsuccessfully keep the laugh in. “I doubt anyone would mind, seeing as they're all awake at night, anyways.”

Rinkara took Enko's hands into hers and grinned. “Guess I'm delivering a leave of absence letter to our esteemed leader, then? And maybe we can get a gift for your parents before we go home.”

“Oh, I don't think you have to do that...” Enko found herself being led away by the hand back towards the crowds in Ul'dah's streets. Rinkara glanced over her shoulder and offered her another grin.

“Maybe, but I want to live up to the reputation you've probably been setting up for me in your letters.” Pressing her free hand to her heart, Rinkara altered her voice's pitch to better mimic Enko's own. “'The moon of my sky, the stars that guide me home, the wonderful Rinkara... When a song flutters from her lips, even the fairest birdsong cannot compare...'”

Enko playfully jabbed Rinkara in the ribs. “That sounds an awful lot like something  _you'd_ say, not me.”

Rinkara laughed and half-shrugged with one shoulder. She tightened her grip on Enko's hand as she pulled her to a deeper part of the crowds, where the hustle and bustle of the market was thickest. Somehow, though, everything seemed quieter as Enko focused on Rinkara, her gaze flicking from Rinkara's face to their hands clasped together. The small Aetheryte fragment set into Rinkara's ring appeared to glimmer in the Ul'dahn sun.

Perhaps Enko wouldn't have described Rinkara to her parents in as flowery language as Rinkara had suggested, but there was one thing for sure: There was something far brighter in Rinkara's countenance than any moon or star.

And when Rinkara glanced back at her and squeezed her hand with a smile, Enko returned the smile and became all the more certain of that.


End file.
